


Anything, My Love!

by sapphistication



Series: Ba-da-da-dam *snap snap* [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Addams Family Fusion, Dorks in Love, Fluff and Smut, General sexiness of the Addams Family, How do I tag?, I think????, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mild Smut, help it's 2 am, not explicit by heavily implied, sexy times in a grave, they are absolutely devoted to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:46:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphistication/pseuds/sapphistication
Summary: Poe, the favourite cousin to one Gomez Addams, is terribly and absolutely devoted to Finn, an undertaker, a master of Death. When Finn is gone for longer than Poe can stand being parted from his love, he is ready to lose himself in agony and heartbreak. It is a dark and gloomy night when Finn returns to him. What better way to celebrate than spending a night in the grave Poe dug for them?-----Inspired by and written for (myself and) mssrj_335 because I love them with my whole heart!
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams, Poe Dameron/Finn
Series: Ba-da-da-dam *snap snap* [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982875
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	Anything, My Love!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mssrj_335](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Fitting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037717) by [mssrj_335](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335). 



> It is 2 am and I think that should tell you everything you could expect from this. Self-edited, obviously. But again: 2 am.  
> Thank you to mssrj_335 who wrote the horribly, terrible, hideous, wonderful, amazing original to which this one can be seen as a sequel. Catch me stealing ideas and calling it a sequel ayyy.

It was a dark and gloomy night, clouds hung heavy over Addams Manor, oppressively drab and grey. A perfect day for a romantic walk to the graveyard, saying hello to the relatives long buried, and listening to the sirens wailing in the distant city. The thunderstorm was wreaking havoc outside, the rain pattering against his window with a deafening intensity, but Poe had no time to enjoy it. 

He had a tortured heart, an anxious and restless mind, and his whole existence felt like agony - though not in the good way. All because Finn, terrible, horrible, stunning, beautiful Finn, body carved by the Devil’s own chisel, was away from him. Away on a family trip. Well, a family funeral the undertaker was needed for, trusted, hated, the best of the best in his ruthless way. But still, even with explanation, Poe felt inclined to kill another whole family if someone dared to keep Finn’s touch from him once again, swore on everything that was rotten and unholy that he would kill them and bury them himself! 

It had been five days already that he and Finn were separated! Not in the sweetest torture chambers had Poe known such pain as the yearning for Finn, for his fingers and his teeth leaving marks on his skin, for the undertaker to be taking him apart with his skilled hands and scarce words and ice-cold blackness of his eyes and soul. Ruthless, merciless, loving. Poe’s and Poe’s alone. 

Oh, how he was yearning! A scream rattled through the Addams Manor, could be heard in every cobweb-covered corner, and was so devastating and blood-curdling, Morticia delighted in it two floors down. 

“Your cousin has a heavy heart, mon chér.” 

“Cara mía,” Gomez moaned and trailed kisses up her arm. “Yes, he does. He is in agony, screaming, sharing his anguish with us like we promised each other.” 

“He does,” Morticia breathed, not at all unaffected by the gloomy night and Gomez’s loving attention. “It’s wonderful.” 

“Oh Tish!” 

“Mon chér,” she answered, succumbing to whatever Gomez planned to do with her today, the tortured cries of Poe spurring them on much faster than their fantasies could. Sweeter than torture, the sound of a heavy heart. Delicious in its pain. 

Neither of them saw what Poe saw then, looking out of the window, a glass of bloody red wine in his hand. Headlights, barely visible in the storm! A car was coming toward the Addams manor. Sleek black, long enough to carry caskets and coffins, blood red curtains Poe could make out by squinting his trained eyes were blocking the windows from the inside. So obviously the car of an undertaker. Of his undertaker!

Finn.

“Finn!”

Before the spiders in the webs could react, the door to Poe’s room flew open for the first time that day and he ran out, thundering down the stairs and corridors to get to the front door and outside, to get to Finn and his torturously enticing body, carved by the Devil himself with the same delicious precision a name was carved in a tombstone. Finn and his black skin, his black eyes, his black soul that was Poe’s to devour. Just Finn. 

By sheer willpower and because the house had grown used to him, the heavy front doors flew open and Poe stopped his running, took a breath and straightened his suit. He needed to look presentable, desperate but collected, just a bit more alive than Finn’s usual opponents. 

He was standing outside now, his pin-stripe suit immediately drenched by the rain and just for the dramatics, Poe wished a lightning bolt would run through him just so he could catch Finn’s eye and have his attention. As soon as the car pulled up, Poe realised that there was no need for dramatics or the lightning, because the door opened even before the engine was killed, and Finn’s dark stare was on him immediately. 

Poe let out a breath and dared not to breathe in again until Finn would be in his arms, his to kiss and devour, his to take apart and his to not let go ever again.

“You’re early,” he said instead, not moving from where he stood, torturing himself a bit more and reveling in the proud flash in the blackness of Finn’s eyes.

His dark lips moved with the ghost of a smile as he slammed the car’s door shut and took a few slow, steady steps toward him. Poe could not keep his eyes from wandering down the strong legs clad in black silk, straining against the muscle. He swallowed because he wanted to run his tongue along that silk and what was below it, wanted to be allowed to touch. Finn tortured him, had him desperate and dehydrated with just his mere existence, and they both loved it. 

“You don’t look too disappointed by that,” Finn said at last, just a step and a half away from Poe. It was delicious, the way the whine was ripped from Poe’s throat at that. “Not disappointed at all.” The deep, silky voice sounded almost amused at Poe’s pain, delighted by the effect he had on the man. Poe had to contain another whine, lest his reputation be irreparably destroyed, completely at Finn’s mercy. 

“Mi amor,” he breathed and took Finn’s hand, meeting no resistance at all. In fact, Finn took another step toward him, almost closing the distance between them at last. Poe raised that hand to his lips like he had done that very first day, and every day since, and pressed kisses to every inch of cold, dark skin he could reach. “You have been gone so long, mi amor,” he murmured, pulling Finn in by the hand and trailing kisses up his neck in barely hidden desperation and pained devotion. 

“Were you in pain, my love?” Finn asked, his grip painfully hard on Poe’s hips, drawing him in even more. 

“Yes,” Poe groaned hot against his neck, biting and kissing and leaving his mark on the cold, wet skin. 

“Were you in agony? Tortured like I was, torn at the thought of not being with me? Tell me.” 

“I was! I was, it was the worst kind of pain, I found no pleasure in it! They could have taken me, tortured me, quartered me, burnt me alive and the misery of not being with you would still be the greatest pain I know.” 

Finn groaned against him, or maybe he moaned, nodded along with Poe, lost in desperation, lost to everything in the world that wasn’t Poe. 

“I was the same, my love, my Poe. I couldn’t even enjoy the burial, the crying of the rest of the family, the wails, the broken hearts, the paise for my headstones, nothing. It was dark without you, but not the good kind of dark, not the darkness I’ve known all my life. It was bland. No joy could be found there. Not for me. Not without you.” 

Finn’s words against his skin, cold as they were, lit a fire in him. A burning passion, a flame of life, a love that gave him more than death ever could. He understood now what happened with Gomez every time he laid eyes on Morticia, because the same happened with him the moment he laid eyes on his lethally beautiful undertaker. 

Lost for words - which was still a state he had yet to get used to as half Dameron, half Addams - he met Finn’s lips in passionate kiss, all lips and teeth and biting and fighting and moaning and groaning while they lost themselves in each other, not caring about the noise because the thunderstorm would take care of it like it has taken care of Poe all his life. 

“Mi amor,” Poe moaned against his lips. “Finn.” 

“Poe. You look exceptionally horrible tonight,” Finn promised, silencing him again with his lips and his cold, strong hands leaving bruises on Poe he couldn’t wait to catalogue later.

The rain was picking up, thunder rumbling above them, both of them long since drenched to their bones, shivering in the best way, and hot against each other. 

“Take me,” Poe moaned at once. Finn nodded, but Poe continued. “There’s a grave. All dug out and nice,” he said against Finn’s lips, kissing him because he couldn’t stop himself. “It’s deep and dark and muddy.” 

“Perfect,” Finn groaned, pulling Poe even closer by the hips, wanting them to become one, to take him apart completely and put him back together. 

“Yeah. Take me there, Finn.” He kissed him, his lips, his neck, his pulse point, everything he could reach. “Take me.”

“Yes. Anything, my love. Anything for you.” 

The Devil himself must be on Poe’s side in that moment, because true to his word, Finn walked him backwards, kissing him all the way to the graveyard, rain pouring down on them like it was applauding, like it couldn’t wait to make the world more dirty and hideous just for them to enjoy. 

They reached the graveyard of the Addams family, generations upon generations being witnesses to their love and devotion as they found the empty grave Poe had dug out with his own bare hands to keep himself busy and to make Finn proud. 

“Is this your work, my love?” he asked, looking over Poe’s shoulder down at the grave where earthworms and insects were fighting and losing against the onslaught of water. 

Poe nodded, arms wound tight around Finn’s neck, preening under his proud eyes. “Wide enough for both of us, mi amor. Can fit the double casket you-” his words were cut off first by Finn’s hungry lips, then by a push against his chest as the two of them fell down into the grave. 

All the air got pushed out of Poe’s lungs in the most delicious way as Finn landed on top of him, kissing him, exploring his mouth with his tongue like he had explored his body with the tape measure that first time not long ago, and many times since. Their moans and laughs and cries of pain at a particularly vicious bite echoed delightfully from the earthy walls surrounding them, and it did nothing but spur them on further. 

“Take me, Finn,” Poe repeated his words from earlier, but more desperate now, begging the way he knew drove Finn wild. 

“I will take you,” Finn promised and bit down on Poe’s neck and his collar bone, drawing a sharp moan from him. “My love, my Poe, I will take you apart slowly, torture you with everything I have, make you desperate and beg, dehydrate you even in the rain trying to drown us, before I give you the sweet release you crave. Again and again.” 

Poe moaned and nodded, none of the words he had carefully prepared coming to him at this moment. 

“And you will like it, won’t you, my love? You will crave it, crave everything I give and everything I keep from you.” He kissed the whine straight from Poe’s lips. “You will delight in the sweet torture, you will forget every word known to man, you will only scream for more, hurt in the best way, every strain and every pull in your muscles a memory of my touch.” 

“Yes,” Poe breathed, not daring to close his eyes at the stunning, horrifying, lethal beauty that was Finn’s entire existence, free for him to touch. “ _Please_.” 

It was a tiny word, a simple word. Just one syllable. But the absolutely feral grin it pulled from Finn felt to Poe like the whole world had just stopped. Never before, not once, had Poe said such a word. Its consequences, however, could be heard all the way into town even through the thunderstorm. Their moans and cries of pain and pleasure and unbridled passion absolutely unmistakeable even to the untrained ear. To do this in their own grave, right next to some of Poe’s ancestors, filled him with pride and at the same time disgusted him in the best way. They would loathe him and be so proud, he couldn’t forget where they were, undressed and muddy and hot against each other, rolling in the wet earth like it was all that mattered in the world. 

They went for it again and again, unable to keep their hands off each other after having been separated for such an agonisingly long time. Only once it had stopped raining and the sky above their grave was tainted a golden pink did they stop, Poe lying on top of Finn, bloody and exhausted, covered in drying mud, bite marks and scratches all over his body in a delicious ghost of pain. 

“I love you,” he breathed against Finn’s chest, cold against his cheek, and pressed a kiss there. 

“And I love you,” Finn promised, lifting Poe’s hand to his lips the same way Poe always used to do, and the things that gesture did to Poe would call for the next round if he wasn’t so utterly, painfully spent. 

Finn yawned then at the same time that Poe’s stomach growled. That did raise the question of what torture they wanted to go through - sleep deprivation, or to starvation for a while longer?

“Mi amor,” Poe pressed another kiss to Finn’s chest. “Allow me to deprive you of sleep for the day, get breakfast, take a scalding hot shower, and then continue where we left off until you fall asleep with all the sweet, torturous things I do to you?” 

Below him, Finn groaned and wrapped his arms around Poe in a tight embrace. “Anything, my love. Anything for you.” 

* * *

Still covered in mud and dirt and dead insects, and with the widest grins on their faces, Poe and Finn entered the dining hall hand in hand. The Addams family was already there.

“Finn!” Pugsley exclaimed. “You’re back early. Did the family come back to life like zombies?” 

Wednesday rolled her eyes at her brother’s enthusiasm, but Finn didn’t miss the way her eyes met his in an equally curious manner. These kids had yet to meet a real zombie, and Finn had promised to introduce them to the next one he would meet. 

He shook his head, though, because the only reason he was home early was Poe. “Sorry.” 

The kids visibly deflated and lost all interest in him within the next second the way he had grown used to. 

“Was it at least fun to bury a whole family of five at once?” Morticia asked from the other side of the table the moment Finn and Poe sat down. 

“Was it agonising?” 

“Terrible?” 

“Were there many tears?” 

“Did they fight?”

“Did they get horribly drunk and uncover old family feuds?” 

Finn laughed at the enthusiasm the whole family showed when it came to death. This was why he loved staying here, why Poe hadn’t even needed many arguments when he asked him if they could stay here with their family. The Addamses understood him and his fascination with murders and sickness and death and anything but life. He was part of the Addams family now.

“It was horrible,” Finn grinned, delighted at the way all eyes were on him as he told the story of how the bodycount rose at the day of the funeral, two more dead and an old family feud finally fought out, buried along with the total of seven bodies. 

He saw the way his story riled up Gomez and Morticia, their fingers laced on the table, and Poe right beside him was no better. There were more stories from this week he could tell Poe later, when they were alone and when Poe was at his mercy again, or he at Poe’s. They were at each other’s mercy, really, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Uncle Poe,” Wednesday started after Finn was done, a curious expression on her face. “I heard your screams last night. They were agonising at first, very helpful, better than any horror story to fall asleep to. But then the screams turned into cries and-- what was that about? I’ve rarely heard that before. Was it good? Painful? A new kind of agony?” 

Poe grinned and nodded, a spark in his eyes that Finn missed in every other creature, dead or alive, the spark that drew him to Poe like a moth to the flame - at times just as painful. “Oh yes,” he said. “Anguish, agony, desperation in the sweetest way, my child. You will know what I mean when you’re older, when you have a Finn or a Morticia in your life, when you have someone who will make you feel all the pain in the best of ways, who will make every torture meaningless if he doesn’t execute it himself. No tears will mean anything if it’s not his tears, no cries, no blood, nothing means anything anymore, except for one person. And they will make you scream and cry and love and-” 

“We had sex, Wednesday,” Finn cut him off the very second before Pugsley threw a kitchen knife at his sister, who just a second earlier had leaned back in her chair, bored by the grown-up talk. The moment the knife flew by, missed her nose just by a few millimeters, she charged at her brother with an even bigger knife and the two were gone. 

“-you will be at their mercy,” Poe waxed on, completely lost to the world, Morticia and Gomez glued to his lips. “And you will enjoy every torturous second of it until the rest of your life, no longer dull and meaningless like you thought would be enough for you.” 

The very moment he stopped talking, he turned to Finn, love and devotion and mischief clear in his eyes framed by mud from their night in the grave and his hair still a complete mess. Finn pulled him into a kiss, not intending to let him go any time soon, intending to rile him up until he was desperate again, begging for him, saying _please_ again like he had last night. 

Morticia and Gomez shared a look as well. 

“Mon chér.”

“Cara mía.” 

“Are we having the same vicious thought?” 

“Show them who’s louder?” 

She nodded. 

“Oh, Tish,” Gomez breathed as he pulled her out of the chair and down into their dungeon. 

Who won that day remains to be settled - in true Addams manner, of course. With swords and cheers.


End file.
